[The silence that stretches out between them, interrupted only by the rumbling sound of his bike as it idles under him, seems like it may as well last forever. It's nothing compared to their face-off on the catwalk of the helicarrier, something that's stuck in Steve's mind ever since he'd woken up in that hospital bed.
Bucky doesn't scream at him, doesn't try to insist that no, that's not his name, and that alone causes Steve to relax. Bucky actually takes a few testing steps toward him, and at that point Steve shuts his bike off for a moment so that they can have a proper conversation. That means that the headlight turns off too, which shrouds them in more darkness, but Steve can still see well enough to make out some of Bucky's features -- the thin line of his mouth, the stubble on his chin.
He figures he's going to have to be the one to say something, but then Bucky speaks up and it's such a shock to hear his voice that Steve finds his hands tightening around the handlebars of his bike. He lets out a breath and then nudges his foot on the kickstand so that he can jump off.
He walks closer and turns his head down (even now, it's strange, to have to look down at Bucky) to see him better.] The ocean? [Bucky makes it sound like some kind of life or death situation. Steve looks away for just a split second to glance down the road.]
I could take you. It's maybe an hour's drive from here. [Of all the places he might have run into Bucky, he never could have expected something like this. Maybe that's how it'll be with Bucky from now on: a series of surprises. Still, Steve will do just about anything in order to just be around his friend, even if they don't speak that much.
He wants to ask why the ocean, what's so important, but Steve's concerned that if he questions it too much Bucky will pull away. Better to give him what he wants (and how refreshing, that he does want) and then ask questions later.]
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Bucky doesn't scream at him, doesn't try to insist that no, that's not his name, and that alone causes Steve to relax. Bucky actually takes a few testing steps toward him, and at that point Steve shuts his bike off for a moment so that they can have a proper conversation. That means that the headlight turns off too, which shrouds them in more darkness, but Steve can still see well enough to make out some of Bucky's features -- the thin line of his mouth, the stubble on his chin.
He figures he's going to have to be the one to say something, but then Bucky speaks up and it's such a shock to hear his voice that Steve finds his hands tightening around the handlebars of his bike. He lets out a breath and then nudges his foot on the kickstand so that he can jump off.
He walks closer and turns his head down (even now, it's strange, to have to look down at Bucky) to see him better.] The ocean? [Bucky makes it sound like some kind of life or death situation. Steve looks away for just a split second to glance down the road.]
I could take you. It's maybe an hour's drive from here. [Of all the places he might have run into Bucky, he never could have expected something like this. Maybe that's how it'll be with Bucky from now on: a series of surprises. Still, Steve will do just about anything in order to just be around his friend, even if they don't speak that much.
He wants to ask why the ocean, what's so important, but Steve's concerned that if he questions it too much Bucky will pull away. Better to give him what he wants (and how refreshing, that he does want) and then ask questions later.]